Lines 1-10

• Yesterday, Licinius, at leisure

  We played a lot on my writing tablets,

  As it was agreed that we were frivolous:

  Each of us writing short verses

  Was playing in meter - now in this one, now in that one,

  returning poems in turn through laughter and wine.

  And I went away from there, inflamed with your

  Charm, Licinius, and your wit,

  With the result that neither food helped me, wretched,

  Nor sleep covered my little eyes with rest,